


The Mouse Droid Chronicles

by TheKnitterati



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux is Not Clan Techie, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hive Mind, Kylo Ren is Not Matt the Radar Technician, M/M, Robots, Secrets, droid delivery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 08:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnitterati/pseuds/TheKnitterati
Summary: A place for all the little ficlet headcanons I've developed about the best pets in the galaxy: MSE-droids!(I’ve gone mouse droid bananas, sorry not sorry)





	1. The Secret Colony

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE keep an eye on tags and ratings - I will adjust as I add chapters because I may or may not get weird, I have no idea. I'm also adjusting the number of chapters as I go.
> 
> The rating is for the human interactions, obvs. No hot droid on droid action here, I’m afraid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we learn the origins of the MSE series droids, and that perhaps there is more to them than meets the eye.

Rebaxan Columni was an up and coming robotics production company, filled with eager young Chadra-Fan engineers, ready to bring the galaxy the next great idea. They truly believed they had found exactly what they were looking for when they created the MSE series droids. 

MSE-droids, more commonly known as mouse droids, are small four wheeled robots with a boxy shape. Their typical use was to carry out single duties - often general cleaning or basic repair work. They could also perform other simple tasks such as run communications back and forth, or conduct rudimentary surveillance.

Sadly, they had miscalculated rather grossly on the market appeal for these little wonders. That is how they ended up with warehouse stocked to the rafters with MSE-droids, and not a single buyer. As their business sank into financial disaster, they made one good decision at last and were able to offload the entire inventory to the Galactic Empire. Granted, it was at a rather painful discount that didn’t even cover the materials cost, but it was better than a total loss. 

Thus Rebaxan Columni sank into obscurity and became a “teachable moment” for business schools throughout the colonized worlds; and the Galactic Empire gained a lot of useful little assistants which it farmed out to the Imperial Fleet post-haste. 

Aside from the collapse of a company, and the loss of income for quite a few Chadra-Fan engineers who were forced into alternate career paths as a result, the tragedy of this tale is that the Empire had no real idea what they had gotten their hands on. They believed they had made a smart bargain purchase of some simple janitorial bots, who would clean the mess hall and lavatories, and spare some poor schmuck Stormtrooper from a goodly portion of such work. 

In fact, mouse droids have a lot more to offer, and are much more complex than their new owners realize. 

*****************************************

To the crew onboard the Finalizer, the MSE-droids were mostly invisible. Until you tripped over one. It was rare; their obstacle detection software was very sound. However, their sensors could get dirty, and when you combine that with the low visibility of a ‘Trooper helmet or a dark corridor, well… stuff happens. 

One thing that no one seemed to notice, was that it never seemed to happen to the same person twice. Granted, with over eighty thousand souls onboard, the likelihood of crew members comparing notes about whether or not any of them had tripped over a droid more than once was slim. 

The easy answer here is something about the crew members having that accident one time and becoming more spatially aware, and thus being more attentive and never having it happen again. 

Maybe. That certainly could play in. 

A bigger factor, the factor the crew doesn’t realize, is that the mouse droids share a hive mind. They share memories, and experiences. Thus once one mouse droid has a collision, the human involved is immediately identified and transmitted to all the other droids. Who catalog it appropriately as an obstacle so no future collisions can occur. 

The mouse droids are in fact, a colony, living among the humans onboard the Finalizer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars bless Wookiepedia for having so much trivia that I never knew I needed.


	2. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techie makes a discovery about the mouse droids. Then he makes contact. 
> 
> Excerpt:  
> It was not his habit to lurk in cabinetry like a creep, despite his reputation as one of the most skittish and shy crew members aboard the Finalizer. There was a reason for his discomfort however, and it should be arriving any moment now. 
> 
> He shifted slightly, trying to arch away from the box of uncalibrated blaster scopes that was digging into his spine, when he heard the soft hiss of the tiny pneumatic door and the quiet slide of wheels.

Techie chewed his lip nervously, mech eyes whirring in the low light. His tall, narrow frame was jammed tightly into the supplies cupboard - amidst the extra power packs, replacement lighting, and a shelf of odds and ends of mismatched Stormtrooper armor. 

It was not his habit to lurk in cabinetry like a creep, despite his reputation as one of the most skittish and shy crew members aboard the Finalizer. There was a reason for his discomfort however, and it should be arriving any moment now. 

He shifted slightly, trying to arch away from the box of uncalibrated blaster scopes that was digging into his spine, when he heard the soft hiss of the tiny pneumatic door and the quiet slide of wheels. 

~~^~~

Techie had discovered the door about a week ago. He had been meandering down this corridor on his way back from dropping off some reports… eyes on his feet, mind on his Mattie, as usual. In his fog, he had allowed himself to get shoulder checked by a Stormtrooper, and had careened hard into the wall. 

He cast a glance back to the mannerless squaddie that had bumped him, but they were already turning the corner. 

“Rude.” Techie said under his breath, as he stooped to retrieve the piece of copper wire he’d been absently shaping as he walked. 

That’s when he had spotted the piece of corridor paneling that just didn’t look quite right. After he saw it, it was impossible to unsee it. 

Most people would walk right past. Long ago - even before his father had given him up, and before the Clan and Peachtrees had happened - the boy who had once been called William had figured out that most people aren’t very observant, often by choice. Being the exception to that had served him well... unobservant people didn’t notice a spot of food gone missing. A bit of coin nicked. Unobservant people forgot moments after meeting him that the skinny guy with the stringy red-gold hair called himself Techie. And he got to be nearly invisible. Exactly how he liked it. 

The panel was small; maybe someone had cut a tiny hiding space here for illicit goods? The higher ups would have a fit if that was the case. He didn’t want to be the guy who busted anyone, but he also didn’t want any rules tightened up. It was fairly comfortable onboard at the moment, and while Techie himself could work within any number of draconian rules, his beloved Mattie with his hair-trigger temper was a different story. 

Drawing his coppery eyebrows down in a mild scowl, Techie ran his fingertips cautiously over the seams of the panel. It clearly was designed to open although there was no obvious mechanism that Techie could see.

That’s when he remembered there was a small storage cupboard in this corridor. Embarrassingly, he had hidden in it once...when he’d first been assigned to the Finalizer and was still being given roommates. He had gone through four before leadership realized Techie could accomplish the work of three advanced technicians; in exchange for modest private quarters and the ability to remain sequestered therein as much as possible. He just...didn’t mesh well with others for long periods of time. Long being a relative term; in this case indicating about a forty minute span of time before someone was upset.

Quickly walking forward and backward a bit up and down the corridor, he was able to spot the small utility cupboard, not far at all from the mystery panel. He pushed the discreet latch button that popped the door, and swung it open. 

It was as small as he remembered, and dark as well. His long slender fingers dipped into a cargo pocket on his technician’s coveralls and retrieved a glowrod. Triggering it’s activation switch, Techie beamed it into the corners. 

There! It definitely looked as if the mysterious small panel opened up into this cupboard. But why? 

Just then, his comm chirruped, letting him know he was due back on security monitoring. Solving the puzzle would have to wait a while. Although, he could point a camera at this area. After all… it was part of his duties.

~~^~~

> u want the grid off now Mattie?

> y es pls - will takE abut 20 min mybe morE 

> ok powering grid down. I miss u! 

> m I ss u 2 bb 

Techie grinned at the texts on his screen. He knew Matt’s big thick fingers struggled to type on his tiny comm device, but he made the effort as it kept him in touch with Techie the whole day. Sometimes they could use voice comm, although it was frequently open channels and Techie definitely preferred privacy when speaking to his sweetheart. 

A few staccato beats on his keyboard and power was safely off in the area Matt was working on. Drawing his legs up, he tucked himself into a ball in his chair, and scanned the many views open on his monitor. He tapped a finger playfully on an upper corner image where a tiny little Matt was on his back, long legs sticking out from beneath a console. 

Techie peered briefly at the other standard views that he typically kept an eye on; the hangar bay, where things looked pretty quiet at the moment. The corridors near the ‘trooper quarters, where fights tended to break out. All the outer hull views. Everything calm, just the way Techie liked it. 

Finally he checked the new camera view he had just added. The hallway with the tiny supply closet from earlier, the one with the strange cutout. Nothing was happening...that corridor was normally empty, maybe this was all a waste of time. 

Spinning his desk chair side to side, Techie considered his options. If it was a sort of smugglers den, it would hardly have a steady flow of traffic. Nodding to himself, he tagged a recorder on the cam. 

“Now we will see what we can see, right?” He whispered to himself with a grin. 

~~^~~

“Have you eaten, baby?” Warm breath coupled with the gentle rumble of Matt’s voice against his ear set Techie quivering. 

“Mmmm...cereal. When you left.” Techie twisted in the bunk, tangling his limbs around Matt like an octopus drawing in prey. He shoved his nose against Matt’s collarbone, breathing him in, sighing contentedly. 

Matt’s big palms stroked down the redhead’s back, coming to rest with each cradling a luscious handful of asscheek. 

“Hey little supernova.” Matt’s voice was mildly reproachful. “We‘ve had this talk. You gotta eat more than once a day. And you can’t have cereal every time. You’re gonna get space scurvy or some horrible disease and get sent to medbay. Then who will I cuddle?” His hands gave a soft squeeze. 

The blood was rapidly leaving Techie’s brain for destinations more interesting, but he could still think straight enough to agree, and realize that’s also why he’d fallen asleep in the bunk before his shift was over. 

“M’sorry, Mattie. Do you still love me?”

“Until the stars themselves have burnt out, baby.” He kissed Techie on the forehead. “I’m going to run get us some trays from the caf. It’s still open for an hour, won’t take me but a minute.” 

Techie whined and squeaked in protest as Matt easily freed himself and swung out of the bunk.

“I’ll be back in two shakes of a lothcat’s tail, you can go back to sleep.” 

Techie heard Matt’s rubber soled boots squeak across the floor and out of their quarters. He wanted to sleep a bit more, but now that he knew Mattie would be right back he didn’t dare. They had so little down time together; Techie could not bear to waste it. 

He decided to slip out of bed and check the camera feed on the tiny door. 

Bare feet padding across the chilly laminate tiles, Techie hurried to his console and scrambled into his chair. 

Eyes immediately going to the newest camera feed he had added, he checked for signs of activity. Then tried not to succumb to the rush of disappointment on seeing none. 

Sighing, he hit the button to rewind and playback the cam recording. 

When Matt returned with two rather unappealing servings of nerf nuggets and sauce, his love was bolt upright in his chair, nose almost touching his vid screen, bouncing excitedly.

~~^~~

Techie was nearly holding his breath, watching the sleek little droid slip into the closet through the hidden panel. The covert door slid closed behind them, and the mouser trundled to a plastic bin on a bottom shelf. 

Their front access panel slid away, and a short platform extended. The platform held a silver data pad stylus, what looked like a black button from a junior officer’s uniform, and some kind of ring. 

MSE-6-KT411 carefully moved forward until the platform was fully over the open bin, and then the platform flipped, spilling the contents into the box. Job completed, the platform retracted, and the little droid reversed course and exited the closet the way they had come in.

Techie boggled for a moment, jaw hanging open and unnatural blue mech eyes wide as saucers. In a flash he was on his knees, tugging the bin out with one hand and clawing a glowrod from his pocket with the other. 

His motions slowed as he ran a hand through the box contents. Evidence of day to day human life aboard the Finalizer lay heaped in this bin. Buttons and zipper pulls and the odd buckle from a piece of armor or flight suit. Tiny personal comm units, mini holo projectors and other “contraband” personal items. A few dog tags, what could be wedding rings, a bracelet that appeared quite expensive. 

Techie was positively amazed. MSE-6-KT411 was a collector. Apparently they roamed around and scooped up these missing items and brought them here. 

“But why?” He hadn’t really meant to say it aloud, though it was valid regardless. What purpose did this serve? Especially to an MSE droid? 

He’d have to think on it. He pushed the bin back into place, switched the glowrod off, and quickly checked his personal comm, as he had routed the corridors camera feed to it. He didn’t want to pop out of a utility closet into an entire squad of troopers. Or worse, a gang of officers. 

The coast was clear, so Techie scrambled out and practically ran back to his room to make plans. 

~~^~~

> interface active: est conn mse callsign MSE-6-KT411 . . . .  
> est conn mse callsign MSE-6-KT411 . . .  
> . . . connection established

> _ 

Techie stared at the blinking cursor for just a moment. Then he pulled in a deep breath, and began to type. 

> greetings MSE-6-KT411. My callsign is Techie. 

**> callsign techie - designation, human. designation, technician. designation, operations specialist. how may we assist, callsign techie?**

> KT411, I have found a stash of miscellaneous objects that appear to have been misplaced by their human owners. They are in a bin in maintenance closet 91-F in Sector 7. Do you know the objects I am referring to?

 ** > we know the objects you refer to. callsign MSE-6-KT411 gathers them with intent to restore them to their owners. obstacle: unable to determine owners.**

Techie could feel the grin spreading across his face. His exceptional observation skills along with his unfettered access to the security cams - and the recordings - put him in a unique position to help with this project. And learn more about the MSE droids at the same time, since clearly they had more going on ‘under the hood’ than anyone realized.

> KT411, perhaps I may assist. If I can begin providing owner data, can you facilitate return of objects? 

** > callsign techie, all MSE units have access to all human accessible areas of star-destroyer resurgent-class, designation Finalizer. With owner data, objects can be returned **

~~^~~

Ensign Solange Friese staggered into her quarters, huffed out a long breath, and fell face down onto her bunk. Her uniform cap fell to the floor, spilling her dark curls onto her pillow and concealing her face. 

“Coooeeee, someone’s feeling a skitch dramatic.” A face appeared, upside down, hanging from the upper bunk. 

“Been an ‘orrible day, Lyssa. Just ‘orrible. Everyone angry, yelling, hollering. It’s done my head in.” 

The face vanished, replaced by a pair of socked feet that sprang down and became the entirety of Solange’s bunkmate. 

“My darling, what you need is a proper drink. And a proper lay. Honestly even an improper lay would do in this case. You have ten minutes to get your fine self together, then we are off to the deck twelve lounge to find someone willing to buy drinks and screw around.” Lyssa strolled into the tiny refresher they shared, presumably to get her own fine self together. 

“Mmmphhh.” The last thing she felt like after such a dreadful day was to go hunting for a bed warmer for the evening. Although a drink...or a few drinks...didn’t sound too bad. And after a few drinks, the hunt might not sound too bad either.

With a groan, Solange inched to the edge of the bed and dropped her arm over, fumbling on the floor for her cap. 

“Kriffing hell!” She swore, as she felt her fingertips knock it under the bunk.

Feeling deeply put upon, she rolled off her mattress and lay on the floor, stretching her hand out under the bunk and feeling for her cap. Her fingers touched on a cool metal object just before striking the starched fabric of her ensign’s cap. 

“What...” Solange set the retrieved hat atop her bunk and reached back under for the metal item. As her fingers closed around it, she could feel a delicate chain affixed to it. 

She slowly opened her hand to examine the treasure therein. A slender silver chain with the clasp intact lay in her palm. There was a broken link about two centimeters from the clasp - this was clearly how it had gotten lost. 

An oval locket still hung on the chain. 

“Oh my stars...” Ensign Friese felt tears well in her eyes as she thumbed the locket open. On each side, matching pairs of golden amber eyes looked back at her. 

“Whoa, who’s that?” 

“FRACK ME! Lyss, I nearly had a gods damned heart attack.” 

“Haha, ohhhh sorry. I’m just naturally silent on approach. Who is that though? They have your eyes.” 

Solange pointed to the left image. “That’s me. Age fourteen.” Her hand drifted right and reverently touched the other image. “And that is my twin brother, Alaire, at the same age. He was killed in a skirmish when we first enlisted. This is the only picture I have of him.”

Her eyes drifted around the room. 

“I lost this locket almost immediately after being transferred to the Finalizer. I completely tore this room apart looking for it. No way it was just sitting right under the bed this entire time.”

“Chain broke, clearly that’s how it got lost...” 

“Obviously, Lyss. My point is that I went under that rack, flipped mattresses...hells I moved every piece of furniture that isn’t bolted down so I could check under them. **It wasn’t here.** I’m positive.” 

Lyss gently pried her friend’s hand open, and lifted the necklace free. She opened the top drawer of their shared dresser and laid it carefully inside the small momento box they had bought on shore leave together a year ago. 

“There. Safe for now. I know a guy who can probably fix that chain. He’s a bit weird but he is the gentlest soul, and he has great hands for tiny work. If he can’t fix it, I will buy you a new chain - I didn’t get you anything for Lifeday last year, so I owe you. Rather than wondering how it turned up, let’s just go to the lounge, and drink a toast to whatever mystical being delivered the only picture of your brother back to you. Sound fair?” 

Lyssa had draped an arm around Solange’s shoulders and pulled her close. She was smiling at her own infallible logic. It was impossible to disagree.

“Sounds very fair. First round is on me while we locate suitable drink-buyers slash bed-warmers, ok?” 

A few moments later, the pair sauntered from the room, arms linked. As the lift arrived to take them to deck twelve, the door slid open and one of the many tiny maintenance droids onboard rolled out. 

The roommates stepped aside to let it pass.

“Hello Mouse! I hope you are having a good day!” Solange said to it. She had a soft spot for the little robots. They were awfully cute. 

This one stopped, flashed its lights, reversed back to them and zipped a quick circle around their feet. Then chirruped and beeped before speeding off down the hall. 

Laughing aloud and eyes wide, they boarded the lift and punched a code for deck twelve.

“I think it understood me and was saying hi back!” 

They laughed more, delighted by the notion, and entered the lounge with beaming smiles, the days unpleasantness nearly forgotten already.

The MSE droid continued down the corridor, already sending messages to the collective that it was possible to interact with some of the humans. It flashed its lights in excitement as it proceeded to its charging area. 

In a quiet room, a smile spread on the face of William “Techie” Huxley, after watching the interaction near the lifts. He flipped off the power to his monitor, shucked his baggy shorts and slid into the lower bunk, nestling against the warm blonde bulk already snoring peacefully therein. 

Now he could communicate with the droids, and clearly they were capable of so much more than anyone realized. Grinning in the darkness, Techie drifted to sleep on dreams of having his own little network of tiny wheeled friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a long pause between chapters, I’m so sorry!


End file.
